


The Start of Something New

by missmallorymarie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Beak Kisses, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, happy fucking birthday, i hate myself so much, there is a little nugget at the end that i got in there though, this is bronwyn's fault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 01:33:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13753458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmallorymarie/pseuds/missmallorymarie
Summary: Shiro's confusion over his own feelings causes him to act a little more impulsively than usual





	The Start of Something New

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday gift for tumblr user bron-bron. I made the mistake of telling her in the hours leading up to her birthday that there would be "no rules". She plotted deviously like the true fiend she is and used my words against me to get me to write a Shlav fic. The results are as follows.

_God, I’m exhausted._

Shiro had plopped himself down on the first sofa he came in contact with, taking in the sweet, sweet comforting relief. His adrenaline high from the previous rescue mission had yet to subside. As he slumped against the back of his seat, he could feel his heart pounding and his pulse making its presence more than known in his neck. This had been, by far, the most exasperating mission he’d been on in a while. 

His position as unofficial team leader came with the massive burden of keeping the morale of the team in high spirits. He was far too young to be a dad, he kept telling himself. From encouraging and uplifting to keeping the general tomfoolery to a minimum, he had a facade to keep up. Everyone saw him as the adult figure, even though he was only in his early 20s. He was glad no one had been around to see him lose his cool in the field earlier that day. 

They had been informed of a genius being held captive at a Galra prison, someone named Slav. This Slav, they were made to believe, would be their key to executing their plan to take the fight to Zarkon. With Slav, they could easily hand Zarkon his own ass on a silver platter. They key to this, however, would be a prison break. Shiro, Pidge, and Lance had been assigned this particular mission. All the while as they explored every nook and cranny of the prison to find Slav, Shiro couldn’t help but wonder what he should expect. Would Slav be another experiment like he himself had been? What tortures had this noble genius been subject to? What kind of quivering pulp would Slav be when they got to him? Shiro had been prepared for the worst. But nothing could have prepared him for what he found.

Through the entirety of the escape, Slav had been nothing but a pain in the ass. He was meticulous and ornery to a degree which Shiro had never imagined possible. He had tried to be patient with Slav, but they were in a bit of a hurry. He found himself losing his cool for the first time. And as rough as it was to think that his armor could crack in such a way, Shiro admitted to himself that it felt nice. It was as though every muscle in his body experienced a momentary relief in that expression of emotion. 

Shiro sighed, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling. The plan was all coming together, and soon, if all went well, Zarkon would be no more and the universe would no longer be in danger. 

_If only everything could be that simple..._

Shiro closed his eyes and let the white noise surround him. He could vaguely make out the sound of Coran going on about heaven knows what, the whirring of the castle’s ventilation system, and the dishes clattering in the distance as Hunk prepared for supper. Meditation had once been his only means of momentary peace, being able to concentrate on centering himself. Patience yields focus, after all. 

He directed his focus toward his own breathing, counting the seconds as he inhaled, and then slowly emptying his lungs entirely. He repeated the process until it was coming to him naturally. He let his mind go blank, free of all concerns about their next mission, or about what abominable concoction would be presented for dinner, or when he’d next be able to sink his teeth into a nice, juicy filet mignon again. Food began to fill his mind, but he shook it off. He let every little thought just slip quietly into the background with everything else. Every thought but one. 

Slav’s face popped into his mind, and he felt his heart rate pick up again. He gasped and opened his eyes, jerking upright. 

“So, this is not one of the realities in which you take a peaceful nap!”

Shiro shrieked upon the realization that Slav was not merely inside his head. 

He stammered as Slav snaked his way over the back of the couch to seat himself beside him. Instantly, Slav began prattling off statistics and figures regarding the improvements he had made not only to Coran’s teludav, but also around the castle. He went on about the way the adjustment of such-and-such bolt by 34° would improve the chance of success by exactly 0.0023%, which was huge. 

The chatter continued, and Shiro’s head pounded more and more. The closer he got to another blow-up as he had experienced earlier, the more he began to realize something. Slav was actually, in fact, the genius he had been hyped to be. What came across to the others as empty babbling about the countless other realities actually exhibited an astounding grasp on probabilities. Slav was seeing every possible outcome, and simply trying to improve the chances of the desired outcome in the reality in which they resided. But good god, he talked so much.

“Slav, I–“ Shiro began to cut Slav off mid-sentence, stopping himself upon realizing his unintentionally elevated tone. He took a deep breath as Slav immediately silenced and focused on him. 

“I want to apologize for earlier. It wasn’t my place to lose my temper the way I did back there. You were only trying to play your cards right for all our sakes. I’m sorry.” 

Slav smiled. Or did he? It was hard to tell with his facial structure being what it was. Shiro chose to take it as a smile. 

And then Slav launched once more into his talk of different realities, saying how this particular reality had XYZ chance of happening, and that what Shiro had just said confirmed something about this reality that he’d suspected to be true. He lightly blushed toward the end of his explanation. 

There was a moment where the air felt a little warmer and a little heavier than Shiro was comfortable with. He went to clear his throat of the lump that grew with every millisecond that passed. 

But there was no need. The tension was broken as Lance and Allura walked past the area, bickering as usual, but in a tone that seemingly conveyed a little more endearment than usual. Speaking of tension, there had been something that appeared to be brewing between the princess and the little knucklehead lately. 

Shiro gently elbowed Slav as they both nonchalantly glanced in the general direction of the commotion. 

“Hey. What do you suppose the chances are of those two ending up together?” He asked, halfway joking to lighten the mood. 

Slav, oddly enough, chuckled at the attempted humor, but probability was no laughing matter. He ran through the calculations quickly yet thoroughly, and responded with a simple, “In this reality, I’d give them a 58.903% chance of expressing some form of physical affection within the next two weeks.”

Shiro marveled at the precision of Slav’s answer, when an idea struck him.

“Well then,” Shiro began, switching to a slightly more flirtatious tone. “What about our chances?”

As soon as he said it, he regretted it. Shitty pick-up lines were best left to Lance. What was he thinking? 

Slav seemed taken aback, avoiding making direct eye contact. If Shiro had had any doubt before whether or not Slav had blushed previously, there was no denying that he was now. For the first time in his entire life, from the moment he hatched until now, Slav was rendered speechless. 

The atmosphere grew warm again, but not uncomfortable. Shiro inched closer to Slav, sneaking his own arm into a position interlocked with one of Slav’s eight. He wove their fingers together, feeling his heart pound the way it had earlier, possibly even harder. He squeezed Slav’s hand gingerly.

“Slav, if it’s alright, I’d like to give you something.”

Slav nodded in response, still flabbergasted.

Shiro, before leaning over, instructed Slav to close his eyes. He did so, and Shiro moved in, placing a swift but delicate kiss on his beak. As Shiro broke their connection, their eyes met. Something ignited within the both of them in that moment. They couldn’t say exactly what. Was it love? Was it lust? Was it something transcending either? That would be for them to figure out down the road. 

The castle alert blared, interrupting their moment. It was Coran with a practice drill, no doubt. Shiro exhaled, bringing his fingers to Slav’s fuzzy cheek before pecking him one more time for good luck and taking off.

Slav was left there, pondering all the events that had just passed. This reality truly had something magnificent in store, but the signs all pointed to one thing: that after the coming events, Shiro would not be around to share it with him.

**Author's Note:**

> I hate myself but at least I snuck in some angst.


End file.
